Mwister Wuvereen
by The-madness-linked-to-a-hat84
Summary: Logan and Scott have unsurprisingly been at one another's throats, as Scott welcomes newer mutants to the school, Logan takes it upon himself to check out McCoys lab.
1. At Each Others Throats

"Mwister Wuvereen?"

"Huh? - Everything okay kid?"

With a slight shake of his head, it quickly became apparent the kid was embarrassed, a rosy tinge flushing across his cheeks as his glance shifted down to his feet. "I had a accident."

Sighing deeply, Logan promptly extinguished his freshly lit cigar. A somewhat strained smile pulled at his features as he faced the small child, noting the dampness seeping down his pants. "Okay, Scotty ... Let's get you cleaned up."

This would be the part where Logan would undeniably inform you that 'Karma' screwed him over. A man of his stature would never openly admit that his current situation was down to any fault of his own.

 **– / X-Men \ –**

It was becoming a top priority within the school to improve the falling moral. With seasonal changes and upcoming examinations, tempers had begun wearing thin, leading to an adverse increase in stress levels. A prime example would be, the recent and highly unprofessional situation of one, Logan Howlett, barging into a mathematics class; taught by the X-men leader, Scott Summers. His colourful language, while calling him an utter fool, was the least of anyone's worries, however, the tight hold around his throat ... The students graciously thanked their 'stars and garters' that Dr McCoy was around to /respectfully/ prise the Wolverine from the surprisingly shaken teacher.

At this point the precarious relationship between the two boarded upon legendary; 'almost' feasible enough to be considered a suitable ice breaker for an uncomfortable yet compulsory meet and greets. It was a particular favourite of Tony Starks. So with the morning already witnessing the pair at each other's throats, observing Scott still palming out the dishevelled look from his shirt was overlooked as was, what could only be described as a smug expressing gracing the wolverines features.

Sitting away from any inquisitive glances, the young leader gazed absently out the window, he didn't require a physic talent to understand they 'could be' questioning his ability, allowing one unruly X-men to get the better of him.

"Coffee?"

It took a moment registering for Scott's glance to met with the steaming beverage, his peripheral vision quickly took priority from that to pick up on the subtle motion of material being nervously tugged and balled under clenched fingers.

"I - I was asked to bring this to you - milk with half a teaspoon of sugar, apparently the way you like it?"

The attendant was Aimee Black or 'Glitch' as was her preferred name, she was a new addition to the school, a shy, mature student showing an interest in history and famous crime thriller authors. While her ability, was an unusually rare talent adjusting timelines and de-materialising in a manner similar to that of Kurt.

"Erm - yeah ... Thank you"

Summers permitted himself to hold onto the assumption that the liquid offering was a caring gesture from Ororo, subtly encouraging him to converse with newer members of the team. Gesturing towards the chair opposite Scott openly shared his trademarked 'sided' smile while subconsciously catching bits of surrounding conversation; some of which were hardly appropriate for the time of day.

"Glitch isn't it? I'm ..."

"Scott Summers ..." the words almost seeming to leave the others mouth far too quickly "Or …Cyclops depending on who you speak to. Storm and Hank have been so nice telling me all about you."

His smile tightened, revealing the rare suggestion of insecurity, the steam continuing to rise between them creating almost hypnotic, spiralling patterns. The gentle clink of the ceramic cup resting upon the table fell lost within the background chatter.

"So ... I hear you've an interest in periodic history – any specific era?" The conversation was simple and relaxed, though Scott had inadvertently discovered the reasoning behind the unusual nickname of his newer companion; catching a brief flicker resembling sudden static. With reassurance filling his tone he was quick to embellish the remaining anxiety and soon enough the two were talking as age-old associates would.

"Oh, I almost forgot ..." Reaching into her pocket, Glitch handed over a small crumpled piece of paper. "I was asked if I'd give you this"

Written upon the paper read -

 **'** **When we don't know who to hate, we hate ourselves.'**

The scrawled writing alone gave a face to the otherwise anonymous sender not to mention the statement was considered rather old fashioned. Furrowing his brow, the confusion was hard to hide from the teacher's expression. Feeling no need to peer over his shoulder Scott could feel a focused glance watching over him. And indeed seated but a few tables back Logan watched coolly at the interactions, observing the newly relaxed postures; his main focus however was surveying over each sip the Boy Scout took, of his heated beverage.


	2. Just What The Hell Happened!

Since breakfast, Scott hadn't been feeling himself his stomach grumbled with a dull stabbing ache whilst his vision was either seeing spots or had taken the liberty of blurring his surroundings making it an ominous task navigating around the mansion. It wasn't hard to think back to what may have caused it, he'd barely eaten the night before and this morning he'd settled for a slice of toast and – a cup of coffee. Unsurprisingly it was an offering from a feral mutant in which he shared a love-hate relationship via a fresh-faced student.

The young X-leaders posture had practically doubled over as he used the surrounding walls for support, his arms wrapped tightly around himself allowing the pads of his fingers to aimlessly gather the creases in his shirt as he gently stroked his irritated abdomen. There was the possibility that he was jumping to conclusions and worryingly enough, this didn't actually fall into the lines of Logan's usual motives, unless - Glitch? She was a new student to the school but could her opinion of him really have taken a turn so suddenly? There were a number of telepaths within the school; surely someone had to have picked something up. Shaking his head to rid the thoughts, Scott paused, breathing deeply through his nose as he fought to hold back the new burning sensation rising up his throat, his stomach muscles tightened to remind him that one pain wouldn't be replaced for another.

–

It wasn't clear just how he'd made it back to his room and without making a spectacle of his-self, each groan passing through his lips had undeniably been notched up a pitch or two. Scott was no stranger to pain but in his mindset; being genuinely poorly was something else entirely. Having rested his back against the closed door, nimble fingers repeatedly slipped as they reached out for the lock, stopping only at the satisfying click as the bolt shifted into place. His clothes were quickly strewn across the room as they were tugged them off with a newly found desperation, his skin seemed to heat up beyond the limits of comfort and any material resting against skin simply seemed to antagonise him more.

Scott reached to turn on the shower as he entered the bathroom, flinging his shades to one side as he clambered in. The young leader grounded himself, pulling his knees tightly against his chest trying to focus on the droplets trailing over his naked body, he bizarrely shivered even as the small room filled with steam, the heated spray offering little relief; just a weak tickling sensation that attempted to replace how the feverish effect was making him feel.

– / X-Men\ –

Sleep was becoming an onward struggle, the room was either too cold or overly warm and opening the windows only caused further distractions towards his heightened senses. Untangling his legs from the array of sheets, Logan pushed himself from the bed with a huff, his bare feet taking on a rhythmic beat as he padded towards the door and out into the corridor formally known as the teacher's wing. Darkness had engulfed the towering walls, allowing shadows to creep into hidden spaces and cling to the finer detail etched into the old fashioned frames; yet it was the silence that appealed the most.

Having followed a few hours rest, Logan seemed to vaguely recall the conversation he'd picked up on earlier, something regarding medication and entry into McCoy's lab. The physician had become quite secretive of his little hideaway below levels so it was purely by accident that he'd eavesdropped on a conversation regarding some side projects that were undergoing tests, though how it would affect an actual homo-sapiens was still anyone's guess. He'd picked up other bits and pieces, though none really grabbed his attention as much as his wondering imagination consisting of a range of possibilities and if he was lucky something to pull the stick out of the one-eyed leader's ass.

It wasn't that Logan hated Scott, disliked immensely perhaps but from a serious standpoint, there appeared to be something that retracted that pair from one another. Charles had once described it simply as an invisible magnetic force surrounding the two and the negativity built up caused them to push away from one another. It was blatantly apparent that the joint interest in Jean had triggered more primal instincts within the pair. Logan had all but gone berserker on the young leader and in due course had finally admitted that the kid knew how to stand his ground, earning some admiration.

More recently, it was just down to the fact he enjoyed getting under the younger man's skin.

Still, time had passed and the playful possibilities no longer seemed to register, not to mention that Scott barely rated within his current focus. Yet with his heightened hearing he could easily make out the slender man shuffling just as restlessly in his slumber, so perhaps a mooch around the fur balls lab could prove beneficial for the pair of them. Hank had been made head medical technician following the death of Jean Grey and besides he was pretty sure sleeping pills were standard procedure nowadays.

" _It'd be like striking two birds with one stone, 'cept you'd be the only target_ " The words were a touch louder than a soft whisper, hardly enough to stir an echo within the empty hall as the feral mutant took to tip-toeing down towards the lab, avoiding students who required limited sleep and more so those who seemed to cope with none. Out of all of them, someone needed a good night's rest and Summers was proving the best candidate, besides what was the harm if the dosage just happened to make him drowsy for a larger portion of the day too?

–

The laboratory was located on the lower decks, which to most of the faculty's relief, offered restricted access. The residents despite carrying new and unusual abilities were still just children experiencing and struggling with a concoction of emotions fuelled by hormones and at the end of the day they acted as expected - like typical teenagers. For some, such as Logan, this accounted towards a large percentage of his stress levels.

Running his fingers through unruly hair, the infamous Wolverine treads softly, cautious of his surroundings. Getting into the lab was easily enough, though finding anything within the cluttered environment was going to prove the challenge. It wasn't so much the partially named bottles and incriminating jars that proved the problem but the disarray of wiring, filling up the ceiling space and the mind-boggling scribbled equations were starting to make this uninvited guest feel nauseous.

It was a wonder how they hadn't lost the good doctor, as the exit seemed to vanish, blending into the unkempt setting. " _Jeez Hank never had you down for being this disorganised. No wonder you spend so much time down here, it's a hell of a wonder you get out at all."_ Sidestepping over some clearly unfinished contraptions, Logan scanned through some orange tinged medication tubes, shaking a few occupied with tablet shaped contents left resting on a metal wheeled trolley. Nothing seemed to stand out and – well, nothing appeared to smell familiar either.

A sudden clatter and the sound of follow-up footsteps aroused his attention, triggering a not so refined scurry through the bottles and a half-assed attempt at reading the few labels that carried visible print before being forced to duck from sight. His large thumb inadvertently smudged some of the words written in a weak marker pen leaving nothing more than the letters 'ING PILLS'. Gritting his teeth, it was hard to imagine that anything kept in such a compact capsule could lead to anything worse that a sleeping pill, a slimming aid perhaps but either way it was nothing that would cause any real harm. At least, that's what he'd hoped.

– / X-Men\ –

A few hours had passed since anyone had heard from Scott, which to some, didn't quite add up to his character; even in rare times of illness, the geometry teacher would ensure anyone left to cover his classes had notes and handouts to make things run _efficiently_ easier. Not to mention that against Hank's professional advice he would also try to show his face from time to time, unintentionally lengthening his recovery period. As other members of faculty continued with their daily routines and timetables, Ororo Munro delegated stragglers to classes and threatened few with detention if they continued to use their powers unwisely and within the communal areas. With Charles attending a council meeting and her benevolent leader AWOL the duties of the school fell upon her shoulders as did her growing concern.

–

Unlocking the door had been easy enough; the staffing roster alone carried an array of hidden talents. Gambit sitting proudly within the top three followed swiftly by Shadow Cat who understandably carried a far different form of gaining access. Though with what seemed to be the weather witches luck, Remy had taken off on a personal mission, the details were not disclosed and Ms Pride was where she was needed most – in class. It was through sheer coincidence and enough prayer, Dr McCoy had appeared swinging a set of keys around his expansive blue fingers, wearing a smile worthy of the Cheshire cat himself. " _I heard you were asking for some assistance, Charles just happened to leave me with these following that incident with the garden shed and the demise of your poor roses."_

" _Yes, well, the less said about that the better but for now we really must check that Scott is okay, it's not like him to just drop everything like this. I must say it's got me worried."_ Combing her fingers through her vibrant white hair, Storm took a step back, feeling her breath catch as she heard the inevitable sound of the lock shifting. As the door slowly fell open, the expression covering her concerned features changed to what could only be described as utter disbelief; her jaw fell slack as she thought for even the vaguest comment of intellect. Nothing could have prepared her for this as she glance fell upon a small child wrapped up in an oversized tee shirt.

" _Scott?_ "

The small body seemed to stir in recognition, as long eye lashes fluttered open revealing stunning brown eyes. A small characteristic smile pulled up on his features " _Owowo? Hank? What are you doing here?_ " Sitting up the collar of the tee shirt slipped over his shoulder causing the youngster to turn his head in twisted shock, replacing his once gentle features.

" _Scott -_ " McCoy slipped past Storm moving further into the room, perching himself at the end of the child's bed "I need you _to keep calm and tell me everything you remember about the last few hours._ "


End file.
